


Joy

by gonefornow



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:41:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5003407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonefornow/pseuds/gonefornow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cake's relationship from the perspective of their family members.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Cake-drabble: Joy

“I didn’t know you were having friends over,” Joy announces as she walks into her family room to find an unfamiliar face on her couch. The gangly blond teenager is sprawled next to her son, one arm slung over the back of the sofa around Calum’s shoulder.

“This is Luke, mom,” Calum waves absentmindedly at the blond, attention too focused on the movie they’ve got playing to offer a better introduction.

"Hi Mrs. Hood,” the boy, Luke, waves at her.

Joy watches that arm carefully settle back onto the couch into it’s too casual position bracketing her son’s shoulder. 

“Good to meet you, Luke.” She makes no other comment as she heads into the kitchen.

-

“Stop it, Luke!” Calum’s breathless voice pulls Joy’s attention from the dishes, and towards the backyard. Her son is trying to fend off the gangly arms wrapped around his waist, reaching for the squirt-gun he’s holding tightly to his chest. 

Joy has seen a lot of Calum’s new friend in the two month since first meeting him. Not that she minds if Calum’s friends are over. But she senses something different about this one, can’t help but notice those blue eyes lingering on her child. 

She doesn’t like it. They’re only 14. Luke’s eyes are already too possessive. His hands already linger too long on Calum’s waist, wrap too tightly around his wrist and tug too hard.

Calum, of course, is oblivious. It’s a small blessing in this situation that Calum has never been her observant child. He treats Luke the same as Damon or Michael. 

Joy watches them carefully and keeps her observations to herself. 

For now.

-

Six months later, Joy is genuinely surprised to meet the pretty little strawberry-blond headed girl Calum introduces as Luke’s girlfriend. There’s a lot of awkward hand-holding as the two of them sit together on a love-seat. Calum and Michael occasionally look up from FIFA to throw some asinine comment in their direction.

Joy watches from the kitchen as she’s preparing snacks for them. It’s hard not to smile at the surreptitious glances Luke and the girl (was it Aleisha?) send each other. 

She lets herself relax.

-

Joy sets down the cookies she’s brought along as her contribution to the school summer concert, then heads over to find a spot the grass with her husband and son. Calum will be singing later today, but right now, it’s Luke Hemmings up on stage. 

She’s not expecting the boy to dedicate his song to Calum or that wide grin to spread across her son’s face when Luke starts singing. The little strawberry blond Calum called Luke’s girlfriend is sitting directly ahead of them, and Joy takes note of her tensed shoulders and rigid back. But her attention is focused on her son and the faint pink blush splashed across his cheeks when Luke’s eyes find him in the crowd.

Maybe Calum is not as oblivious as she thought.

It occurs to Joy that her child is growing up. The discovery leaves her a little sad.

-

They’re curled up together in Calum’s bed one afternoon when she gets home from work. 

Joy’s eyes linger over them. They’re nearly the same height. Luke might’ve grown just a hair taller than Calum in the time she’s known him. But somehow, his body language screams protectiveness, her son’s slimmer figure slotted tightly into his. Some subconscious part of her recognizes how at ease Calum looks fast asleep in Luke’s arms.

Joy sighs.

She’ll have to talk to Calum eventually. Fortunately, she’s seen enough of Luke Hemmings this past year to realize he’s going to take it slow. 

That’s good. She’s going to need the time to adjust. 

She pulls the door shut behind her and heads to the kitchen to start preparing dinner.


	2. Jack

This is wrong. 

He shouldn’t be watching. It’s sick, voyueristic. A gross invasion of privacy. If he had any decency left, he would quietly turn around, walk out of the house, and scrub what he’s just seen out of his skull.

But he’s rooted to the spot. Like a goddamn Peeping-Tom.

Of course Luke was going to eventually find someone. Not that Jack ever expected to walk in on an intimate moment between his young brother and any of his fuck-buddies. But for that person to be Calum Hood? Well, he almost can’t be blamed for initally looking, just to make sure he’s seeing what he thinks he’s seeing. Not that it’s any of his business.

But once he looks, he’s hooked. Shock very quickly melts away, and somehow, the powers that be decide it’s the most opporture moment for Jack to realize how good Calum looks with his pretty (when had he started thinking of Calum as pretty?) head thrown back against the pillows, puffed, kiss-bruised lips parted in invitation to be plundered, one slim gold leg draped over Luke’s shoulder as he’s fucked into the matress. 

And somehow, he can’t ignore just how much Luke resembles him. At 17, Luke is already almost as broad as he is (although no where near as well-muscled yet, Jack notes with an embarassing sense of satisfaction). They’ve got the same blond hair, but Jack’s twisted brain substitutes his own longer locks for his brother’s. He decides their expressions would be similar. Luke is smirking, all self-assuredness and innate confidence and Jack only has to hear the pathetic, incoherent stream of whispers and pleas falling from Calum’s lips to know why. 

Luke is a man utterly confident in his own prowess.

But Jack knows he’d do better. Would make Calum scream louder, cum harder. 

He would fuck Calum better.

Sick. Sick. Sick.

It’s easy to berate himself, but easier still to stand unmoving. Especially as Luke tumbles them over in one smooth, practiced motion that ends with a startled Calum sitting in his lap. 

Jack feels parched as he watches his brother’s big, pale hand graze the obscene curve of Calum’s waist, smooth over the flare of his hip, before moving to cup one round, full ass, one long finger rubbing against Calum’s hole that’s stretched around his dick. And apparently that’s all the encouragement the brunette needs. He starts moving, body undulating on top of Luke, slow with filthy, suggestive moans that soon has Luke fucking up into him, his long neck tipped back to show off the obvious hickeys Luke’s intentionally left in places Calum won’t be able to hide.

His brother is a possessive little shit. But Calum obviously loves it, flutters his lashes and parts his tawdry lips as he teases Luke into fucking him harder and Jack understands his brother. He would bite too, mark the little slut up, fuck him so hard that he wouldn’t walk again without a permanent limp in his step. Let any other guy who dares to look at the brunette know he’s taken. 

That he belongs to Jack.

Except Calum doesn’t belong to Jack. And the undeniable truth is right in front of him, obvious in the way Calum spreads his legs wider for some other guy who isn’t Jack.

They move faster now, the easy languid fucking quickly morphing into something more animalistic and desperate that makes the headboard bang into the wall and the cheap bedsprings creak in protest underneath them. Jack uses the last remaining ounce of his self-control to keep from masturbating, instinctively knows it’s a line too far, already hates himself enough knowing that when he gets off later, it’ll be to these pornographic moans.

Then Calum is screaming his pleasure, begging Luke to fuck him faster. Except in Jack’s mind, it’s his name that falls like a mantra from those puffed lips, his chest that Calum falls onto, panting and breathless, his hips stuttering up into the brunette’s as he finds his own completion inside that beautiful body.

Some absent part of him takes note of the gentle way his brother moves Calum onto the bed but is forgotten with the jolt to his erection as he sees the white splooge dripping out of the brunette’s stretched out hole, a clear indication that he lets men bareback him. Jack’s eyes trace jealously over that long, slim body - Calum is absolutely stunning in the aftermath of sex, fucked out and used, chest heaving, skin flushed pink, and he knows he has to have the younger boy, needs to know what he’ll feel like underneath his hands, begins to formulate how he will ask.

Except the next moment, he watches his brother gather the slender brunette into his arms, Luke’s big hand unexpectedly gentle as it brushes damp, black curls off that sweaty forehead. He’s shocked for a second time that night when those soft, doe eyes flutter open, half-lidded and fringed by thick, sooty lashes, and filled with absolute adoration as they look up at his brother. And there’s that reciprocating, smushy, sweet, utterly unexpected look in Luke’s face as he stares back at Calum, the possessiveness still there but now tempered with something Jack can only describe as love.

And as if a curtain has been lifted from his eyes, he suddenly sees. 

Shaking his head at his own blindness, he quietly steps back, pulls the door shut behind him, and walks down the hallway.

–


	3. Liz

\--

“Harder, Lucas!” Calum laughs, sounding more like a carefree child than the reticent teenager he so often is.

Liz sighs as she watches her son respond to the demand, pushing the baggage cart Calum’s standing on a little faster down the mostly empty corridors of the departure lounge as they wait to board their early morning flight to London. A new city. The start of a new life. For her too, albeit temporarily. But Liz is preoccupied with something else.

Calum calls her son Lucas. And Luke tolerates it from him, when he corrects everyone else.

“You’ll keep an eye on them, right?” Joy Hood, her strongest ally in this unexpected fight, is standing off to her right watching them just as intently. The implication is obvious. Joy isn’t asking about the perceived safety of new cities or the music industry. She’s noticed the special nickname too, the easy smiles, the lingering touches.

“Wish you were coming out with me,” Liz answers. “Two minds are better than one.”

Joy’s smile is an implicit vote of confidence. “You’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re going to stop them. Maybe just slow it down, a bit.”

Liz doesn’t feel any more reassured.

\--

“But does it have to be the two of you?” Liz tries to keep her tone casual as she watches her 15 year old sort through the pile of junk on one of the twin beds in the small room.

“I mean... Cal’s fine of course... But don’t you think you’d be more comfortable rooming with Ash instead?” Her son turns to her with a bewildered look on his face. “He’s older, more mature. Cleaner.” Her excuses sound flimsy even to her own ears. “Or maybe Michael...?”

Luke rolls his eyes at her. “It’ll be fine, mom.”

Liz winces at the flippant remark.

It won’t be fine.

It won’t be fine because she’s seen the way her son stares at Calum Hood. The intensity in Luke’s eyes scares her too much for her to feel comfortable leaving the two of them alone together night after night behind a closed door. And adding to her misery, there’s been an escalating response in Calum, the bare hint of a flush dusting his cheeks pink and the way he peeks out at her son through his pretty lashes when he thinks he won’t be caught staring. A little less sure than Luke is (thank god!) but still interested.

It’s not to imply Calum’s a bad kid. She loves Calum, is proud to be a part of his development into the fine young man he's becoming. But Luke is just fifteen. And Calum himself just barely had his 16th birthday. Far too early for either of them to look at anyone the way they look at each other.

Especially when there’s the added complication of the band - they’re not just friends or schoolmates. They’re about to become a brand together. The pressure is too much. She worries about it - worries about their possible heartbreak, squandered futures, a lifetime of regrets from unfulfilled dreams.

It’s too much to risk for a teenage fling.

No. That’s a lie.

Liz is sure of this much: for Luke, Calum will never be just a fling.

\--

“No. Like this.” Off to one side, Michael is trying to teach Calum the guitar.

Liz has long ago given up on her copy of A Song of Ice and Fire in favor of watching her son.

Luke is no longer even pretending that he’s not watching the interaction. Each time Michael’s fingers brush against Calum’s or the brunette smiles at the other boy, Luke’s jaw tightens just that little bit more, his eyes get a little bit darker.

Jealousy. Liz recognizes it easily even though she didn’t see this side of her son with Aleisha. Then again, Luke’s never been a possessive person. Until now, anyway.

A few seconds later, he’s lifted himself off the couch and is storming out the door, leaving her to watch silently as Calum and Michael gape after him, before they go back to playing.

It’s gratifies her when a fidgety Calum puts the guitar away soon after.

\--

Liz feels like she’s committing a gross invasion of privacy, even though it’s unintentionally done. But her curiosity won’t let her leave her, so she stands quietly outside their bedroom door, Luke’s laundry basket with the clothes she’s just washed forgotten on the floor, watching as her son guides Calum through different chords on the guitar.

It’s not explicit or extraordinary scenario. But the two of them make a surprisingly intimate picture, their heads bent close together under warm yellow light, their fingers brushing against each other as they play something she vaguely recognizes as 80s-rocks, murmuring quietly to each other with all the warmth of lovers.

She is terrified for her son. For the possible heart-break and all the disappointment that can come if this falls apart.

But every so often, they hit a note particularly well and the smile Calum gives Luke is so glowing, so joyous that it makes her heart ache with hope.

\--

 


End file.
